


Illusion of Freedom

by look_north



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Duty before love, F/M, Hurt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-03 15:49:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13344438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/look_north/pseuds/look_north
Summary: A decision to dictate someone's life can often have dire consequences, and this is the last straw for Jon Snow!Jon has run away from his old life, leaving the realm in a difficult situation, and peace may not be as secure as they think.-The freedom to make my own mistakes was all I've ever wanted- Mance Rayder(On pause, will finish once I can focus on it.)





	1. The freedom to make my own mistake.

Her task was beyond painful, and not much was accomplished given the short list of names available. Either they weren't offering enough influence or a strong enough bloodline. It wasn't at all what she wanted, to look at people as if names were all that mattered, that who your father was gave you more value then others. But duty comes first, and her inability to have children made the decision for her in the end.

Her hand, Tyrion Lannister delivered the lists nearly 4 hours ago, "I'll leave you to it" he said before leaving. Beneath every name was notes on lineage and character, Even though she had to choose someone, it could at least be someone who wouldn't turn out to be a complete nightmare.

She organized the lists in a neat pile, and moved over to her bed, shedding clothing as she went. The past week had been exhausting, but sleep still didn't come easily to her. She felt tears in her eyes welling up, trying to force sleep upon herself.

They were nearing their final days in Winterfell, and despite the horrors of the last few months; fighting the dead and Cersei, nearly dying from the fall from Drogon and killing Viscerion, she was eager to return to King's Landing and start her reign. Her decision would be respected and obeyed; of that, she had no doubt.

She was startled awake by the knock on her door the next morning; the light was shining through the window of her rooms, and she could hear Drogon from outside the wall, Rhaegar has been very quiet after bonding with Jon, almost as if he mirrored his rider. "I know you're restless, my children, we will be going home soon," she whispered to herself. "your grace, I'm here to get you ready for the day," she heard Missandei's soft voice from the door, "you can come in, I'm alone this morning," she whined. Spending the last week alone at night was getting on her nerves, and the lack of the comfortable ache between her thighs was something she missed dearly.

The door opened, and Missandei and two other northern handmaidens followed, "Good morning your grace, let's get started." She bathed, scrubbed her skin red, but didn't feel clean or satisfied with herself. Despite being on her feet in activity for some time she seemed to have put on some weight, "It'll be better once we reach the capital, more activity, and better food," Missandei said, knowing Danys displeasure. When she dressed, her clothes were a little tight, and Missandei had too alter some of them, increasing Dany's annoyance,

"Call the small council for after my morning meal," she said, opening the door to her chambers and headed towards the great hall, Missandei nodded and fell in behind her. Despite much of the snow melting and the sun was high in the air, it was frigid, and people preferred to stay indoors, making the keep seem abandoned. "I can't wait to get south, and feel the warmth on my skin again," she said, knowing Missandei was behind her. "I don't know, it has a sort of beauty to it, and the fresh cold air is pleasant," she heard Missandei say and turned around, "a girl from the summer island of Naarth loves the cold?," Dany smirked, linking her arm with her friend.

They entered the great hall, seeing Tyrion, Jorah, Sansa, Ser Davos and Arya at the head table, a solemn mood seemed to have taken over the castle the week they had been back, trying to adjust to the changes coming. Sansa would be named wardeness of the north, with Arya serving as her second-in-command, Davos would also stay in an advisory position.

She sat down in the chair next to the head chair, designated for Jon, who would be head of the house until they left for the capital. "Where is Jon, Lady Sansa?" she asked, "he hasn't returned from his morning ride, your grace," Sansa answered without looking up at her. "he's usually back by now," she tried again, "It's become considerably more difficult to predict his action this last few days, as I'm sure you can understand," Arya snapped at her before hurrying out of the room. Dany sighed, "excuse my sister's behavior, your grace," Sansa cooly offered, not much emotion behind the apology in Danys opinion.

"No need to apologize, I'm sure he will be back in time for the council meeting," she said, ending the awkward exchange. She pushed her food around taking small nibbles, the food not at all appetizing. "Did the list's offer some insight, your grace?" Tyrion asked, breaking the awkward silence that settled, "yes, I think there are one I could pick from your revised list, I believe I will have decided by the time we arrive in King's Landing," she answered, her hand only nodded.

"This is the right decision; you said yourself that it was the only way forward," she snapped, "I said it was one of the options available," Tyrion responded, "I have doubts whether or not it's the right one." She turned back to her food, in the back of her mind she noticed the chair next to her was still empty. "When are we ready to leave, Tyrion?" she asked, "a day from the moment you give the order, your grace," the need to get on with things was gnawing at her, "then we will leave tomorrow," she answered.

The year since Jon and Daenerys had arrived in White harbor had raced by; she was introduced to the northern lords, Jon's parentage revealed, agreeing to continue their relationship, their betrothal had taken a toll. Not to mention the massive war against the white walkers which nearly didn't go their way as Jon inched out a victory against the night king.

Then the war against Cersei, which was brutal and bloody, ending with the second battle of the trident, dubbed the trident of fire and blood in the aftermath. The golden company was at the end somewhat unwilling to fight against two dragons, and nearly half of their forces was burned, or run down by the combined 35 000 northerners, Unsullied and Dothraki. Daenerys offered them a return to Westeros to serve as the crown army; they seemed like one mind after seeing the devastation that the dragons caused and accepted quickly. 

The golden company gained entry to King's Landing and took the city quite quickly. Daenerys and Jon were getting quite nervous, but when they saw the red three-headed dragon banner flying from the red keep, Daenerys cried like never before. Nearly ten years of blood, sweat, and tears were over, and she had accomplished what she had set out to do; restoring her family to their former glory.

The intense lovemaking that followed between them was something out of this world; they knew each-others bodies so well, it seemed like a song, flowing and beautiful, the better part of the night filled with sensual, slow couplings, and hard, animalistic fucking. They laid in bed naked next to each-other afterward, their covers on the floor next to them, "That" he started, "was amazing," and rolled over her and started kissing her neck, hitting the spot that made her squirm. "I agree full heartedly," she answered. She pushed him to his back and wrapped herself around his side, his hand landed on her ass and gave her a cheeky squeeze, making her giggle.

The thought of that night flustered her beyond words, and she had to fight the warmth in her lower belly, making the rest of the breakfast very difficult. The past month, her desires had peaked, often during meetings, she wanted to pull Jon to her chambers and ride him until the sun went down, and then let him take her whatever which way he wanted. 

Shaking her head, she finally got her thoughts under control and finished her meal. "I'm going to inquire about the whereabouts of our missing hero," she said to Tyrion, forcing a smile on her face, "happy hunting, your grace," he answered.

The courtyard was eerily quiet, and walking through the snow clutching at her cloak, given to her by Jon on her third day, was warm and comforting. The work had slowed down as the desperation disappeared, smiths, soldiers and lords alike had gone home to their duties and families, making Winterfell seems like a ghost town compared to when she arrived.

The stables were bleak and cold; two stable boys were organizing saddles and taking care of the horses. Neither of them had noticed her walking in and turned around as she cleared her throat, "Has lord Snow returned yet?" she asked, neither of the two boys appeared to be breathing. "N-no, your grace, his horse is not in his pen," one of the boys answered, "but he's been going on rides the past week, he's bound to return soon." She sighs, "let's hope," she said while turning around and leaving.

She opened the creaking door to the council chambers, and she was met with an empty room, she told her guard to fetch her advisors and one by one they filed in, with Sansa, Davos, and Arya coming in last. They were gathered around the table, waiting in silence, small conversations passing the time, "Looking forward to taking up your role as wardeness, my lady?" Tyrion asked his former wife, "yes, I think it will fit me well, although a lot of the northern lords are stubborn as you well now," Sansa answered, "yes, I remember they weren't too welcoming when we first arrive, even now they still cast sideways glances," Tyrion reminisced. "They are proud to be a part of the realm under good rulership, my lord," Sansa said, not leaving any room for reply.

"This is getting ridiculous, send someone to Jon's room to see what has him so late," she ordered the unsullied in the room. "Was his horse in the stables?" Tyrion asked, "no, it was not," his eyebrow shut up on her reply. "you don't think he.." his voice trailed off, "think what?" she asked, but Tyrion didn't continue. "He's probably sent his horse to be cleaned and shooed in Wintertown, he spoke of it yesterday," Davos chimed in, "why would he do that himself?" Tyrion asked, "he likes doing things himself," Davos shrugged.

A northern guard entered in a rush and handed Tyrion an envelope, "we found this in Lord Snow's room, my lord," he said and walked out. The tension was palpable, and Tyrion's slow opening was maddening. He looked at it, let out a shaking breath and pulled out Jon's white wolf pummel, usually fastened on his sword, along with a letter, he looked at her before reading out loud.

My queen

When I arrived at Dragonstone, my only focus was to acquire the dragonglass, at best you would join me north with all your forces. Our first meeting was on of strangers with little knowledge of each other, of course, rumours had traveled even as far as castle black, but nothing could be proven there.

Our stubbornness clashed, and neither willing to give up ground on either of our wars. We've discussed at length what our thoughts were of each other both before and after the meeting, of mutual interest and admiration, which further strengthened my certainty of our fates together.

I witnessed your unwavering devotion to your people and your good heart, I couldn’t explain what I was starting to feel back then but looking back on it I have no doubt what it was.

All my life, the choices have been out of my hand, whether it has been for duty or otherwise; I went to castle black as there were no place for a bastard in Winterfell when Lord Stark went south, I became Lord Commander to lead them against the walkers, and they killed me for it. I helped Sansa reclaim her home and was named king, despite my lowborn status. I even agreed to rule beside you after my true parentage was revealed, and despite my initial confusion, I never doubted my devotion to you.

And after a lot of thinking, I refuse to have my choices made for me again, I understand your position, but I can't accept it. This will undoubtedly upset you, as it upsets me to do this. I can't stand by and watch the rest of my life dictated and be treated like a broodmare, something which I know you are familiar.

Tyrion handed her the letter, and she read the following paragraph to herself.

I honestly believe we were meant for each other, I can't explain it or push away, but my time, however many deceits it was built on has been the happiest period in my life, and I love you with all my heart.

She read out loud to the rest of them again.

This may be the biggest mistake in my life, but the freedom to make me own mistake was all I've ever wanted. I don't know where I'm going, not that it would be smart to tell you at this moment, but I hope I find peace, as do you.

She dropped the letter on the table and picked up the white wolf. "gods, you've gone and done it now, haven't you," Arya fumed, "I knew this would blow up in your face," she raged, her sister almost holding her back "you should have been honest with him from the start, especially after all he's been through!". She sat down dejected, still clutching the wolf figure, "Send out search parties, send ravens with his description to the other kingdoms, but tell them not to engage him," she looked to Tyrion who nodded, and she hurried back to her room, door slamming shut.


	2. Running away to your freedom.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon travels, hides and makes changes. Tyrion seeks out a weary queen.

His horse felt restless between his legs, shaking his head and stomping his hoves in the ground as if he felt his riders impatience. He was standing on a hill about two miles from Winterfell, the last spot he could look back at the home he had grown up in, been crowned king, and had his dreams crushed.

He had given up everything; he had abandoned his house nearly as soon as he had acquired one - Aegon Targaryen or Jon Snow? Finding out about his parentage had turned his world upside down, Daenerys had initially turned away from him, and his friends and family didn't know how to deal with it. It doesn't matter he supposed; he would use the time until reaching people to figure out his name, not important right now.

He had put this off for far too long, he should have left the night after she told him, but they would have come directly after him, and he needed all the headstart he could get. Whether Dany would be furious, hurt or concerned, he did not know, a mixture of the three perhaps.

He took one last look at the keep in the distance, feeling the bond with his dragon which lay sleeping along with his brother just outside the wall. He hoped he would see Rhaegal again, but it might be too risky as Daenerys could follow him to his location, a confrontation he wanted to avoid for as long as possible. He turned his horse around and set off going south.

The roads had fortunately cleared, so he covered much ground before he stopped for the night. He had a bag with some meat, a bow with a full quiver, a bag of coin and his trusted sword which now looked naked without the white wolf on the pommel, but it would identify him quickly, so he left it behind both as a symbolic and practical thing. Sitting next to the fire he was aware of the 'danger' he was in; they had most likely sent search parties, at least Drogon, and notice to the other keeps nearby, so he had chosen a secluded rock hidden in the forest.

Sansa, Arya, and Davos would undoubtedly speak against a rash decision, but ultimately wouldn't be on his side in this, their silence at the council meeting the day after Dany had broken the betrothal between them said as much.

Five days earlier

"your grace," was all he could muster when she entered the room, her cold, expressionless face was on for good it seemed, and she didn't even look at him. "Lady Sansa, how goes the cleanup?" Dany asked his sister, "it goes slowly but surely, Viscerion's skull will be ready for transport to the capital as you wanted, your grace," Sansa answered, "Outstanding, he deserves to rest amongst his kind," Dany said, not directing it at anyone in particular. 

"Lord Tyrion did we receive the replies from the candidates for the small council?" Tyrion looked up at her, "yes, every one of them accepted and are on their way to the capital." He zoned out for the rest of the conversation about who would do this and that, none of it interested him in the least. Even though he initially didn't want to be king of Westeros he had started looking forward to it; making the city and realms better for the smallfolk, and ridding the city watch of corruption was just two of the things he wanted to do. Now though, it was if all of his willpower had evaporated, feeling exhausted from the last few years, and just waiting for the rest of his life as a pawn for the crown, a thought which made him angry.

"Jon," her voice stern and cold. "yes, your grace?" his voice equally so, "Myself and Lord Tyrion will put together a list of names. I will narrow it down, and then we can decide," he knew she was looking at him, but he refused to meet her stare. "Will we now?" she averted her eyes then, the tension felt by everyone. "names of what?" Sansa asked, and before Dany could avert the question he spoke, "the queen has deemed our betrothal pointless, and has told me to marry and further her line." Her eyes turned to him with fire, "our line, and this is not a discussion for this room," she stated, "oh, it's a discussion now? It seems like you've already decided for both of us," Jon said, "I hope it was worth it," turning around to look out the window, the white speckled with green areas signaling the coming of summer.

"It will be once our house restoration is complete, and our line is guaranteed," ever the calm voice, "quoting Viserys, are you?" he asked, and you could suddenly taste the heat in the air, and Dany's grip on the table tightened. "Viserys was a cruel and weak man; he treated me like the only value on me was between my legs, he chose Kahl Drogo regardless of my wishes, regardless of what kind of life lay in front of me." She turned to Jon, "I'm giving you a choice, to decide and telling you that the future of our house lies in your hands."

"No matter how you word it, this is no different from what he made you do, and every word you told me of it are running through my mind right now." They stayed silent for a long time, the only sound that they heard was the guards patrolling the hall, clanking of metal from the blacksmith right outside the window and he felt his will faltering when she spoke, "Our house will have a future."

He felt like he was about to throw up, so exiting the room and walking towards the only place he could come up with, the godswood. His direwolf was barring anyone from entering, as he sat by the small heat spring in front of the weirwood tree thinking of his father, his uncle, his future and his past. 

A small voice telling him to take control of his fate, that it would not be a betrayal or desertion. Leave!

Present day

The days past in dreary uncertainty. Jon could sometimes hear riders on the road in front of him or behind him, forcing him to dash into the forest, often narrowingly escaping the soldiers, usually in groups of 4 or 5 giving them away as the search parties Daenerys undoubtedly had sent for him. He wondered when he would hear the unmistakable sound of wings and roars over his head, but neither dragon had shown up yet.

Jon had stopped at a river to fill his flask when he heard the shouts "The tracks lead this way," he heard the voice clearly as the soldier approached. He hid under a root and covered himself in branches as the ruffling of bushes came closer. The soldier came into view, and he looked perplexed and looked around, before drinking a handful of water and walking away.

"I need to do better to disguise myself before I reach White Harbor," he thought as he lay under the branches, waiting until it was safe to come out. He stared at his reflection in the water, trying to decide. Eyeing his hair knowing it was the only way, he pulled his dagger from its sheath. 

The cutting took some time, as it looked more and more ridiculous, and since Jon didn't have much experience in cutting hair, it probably didn't look too good, but soon enough it was not much left. Running his hand over his head, watching the hair he cut flow away down the river. He also discarded his gambeson, and soon enough the man once known as Jon Snow was gone, his long hair cut and any stark emblems removed.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tyrion's head was throbbing, Jon Snow or Aegon Targaryen, the rightful heir to the iron throne, had fucking run away! They had become complacent, and they had paid for it. It was an impossible choice, to say the least, every scenario created problems; if he married Daenerys, they would cement their rule, but Daenerys' inability to give them an heir would cause trouble. Daenery chose to force Jon to marry someone else to father an heir, which had torn the two last Targaryens apart. Would Daenerys decide to marry someone else with Jon seemingly out of the picture, wait for him, or just continue as she had planned, alone?

All of these thoughts were churning as he knocked on his queen's chamber door, they had delayed their departure to the capital on her orders, "We can't leave until he's secured," she had said. And now several carriages stood in the courtyard on standby, ready to move south.

Missandei opened the door for Tyrion, before walking to stand behind the chair Daenerys Targaryen was seated in, staring at the fire. "I drove him away, didn't I?" she asked, he sat in the chair opposite her, "it would seem so, your grace, though no one could have foreseen the Jon would take such a drastic action following your decision. And you shouldn't blame yourself for his stupidity," she didn't answer, perhaps not of any strength to properly discuss it. "None of the groups have had any luck, your grace, but we have sent word to White Harbour, let's just hope it reaches before he get's there," Tyrion looked between the two ladies, and noticed the queen's handmaiden had a troubled look on her face.

"Will you be taking the dragons to search for him, your grace?" she perked up his question, "Drogon won't go, his attitude is one of disinterest, and Rhaegal is too loyal to Jon's wishes to take me to him." Her annoyance quite clear, "will Rhaegal follow us to King's Landing?" two dragons would at least give the appearance that the royal family was still intact, "Yes, after what happened to Viscerion they won't part, I hope." The dragons had stuck together in mourning their brother, twice over now. "Any guess to where Jon would go?" she asked.

"Well, my guess is he would go south," the dwarf thought out loud. "Or he goes to Essos, and then he's lost to us." The queen began pacing back and forth, "Double the search parties, we have to travel to King's Landing," she said, "what of the marriage proposals, your grace?" he asked, "I'm guessing they'll be delayed?" 

"Yes, considering we don't have anyone for them to marry, it would be wise," she said, now staring out the window. Tyrion was about to move when a thought struck him, "and what of yourself? There may still be some eligible men in the realm," she half-turned her head, "there's only one man I would marry," she cooly said, dismissing him and the conversation.

Tyrion knew she hated the idea of being tied down, after being married two times previously against her wishes to men of a less savory character.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

Jon stood next to his horse overlooking the entrance to White Harbor, the north's biggest and most prosperous city. The gates were visible from his vantage point, and he saw guards stationed, and were checking anyone who wished to gain entrance to the town. Nearly every soldier had seen his face when Jon had brought Daenerys to the north and could pick him out quickly. His plan to go south by ship was proving to be a lot more difficult than he anticipated.

Having no other choice, he fastened his sword around his belt; his saddlebags slung over his shoulder and his coin purse stuffed into his leather jerkin. He stroked his horse's snout and slapped it's behind, knowing it would find it's way back to Winterfell.

He looked to the sky and summoned his mount.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry about chapter length, they will be longer as the story goes.


	3. Chasing the dragonwolf.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chase and a purchase.

Daenerys Targaryen, queen of Westeros and mother of dragons, was pacing back and forth in front of her dragons, who were lounging in the spring sun. "We have to go after him!" she argued, the dragons just puffed smoke and closed their eyes, in support of Jon or indifference she couldn't say. 

She had been trying to get her dragon to take her for days; his response had either been ignoring her or flying off without her, leaving her angry and frustrated outside the gates of Winterfell. She was starving, having spent the better part of the day with her dragons, she even fell asleep against Rhaegal. She turned to walk towards the keep, watching some of the caravans leaving to King's Landing, which would take almost a month. Daenerys would fly tomorrow.

She nearly kicked a snowbank before she reigned herself in, not risking anyone seeing the queen looking like an angry little girl. She remembered the first night in Winterfell with Jon, when she had lounged naked in her bed, hair free and falling when he snuck in and smiled when seeing her. 

"You are the cutest girl in the realm, your grace," he said as he crowded her, kissing her cheek and neck, enjoying teasing her. "I'm not a girl, I am a woman grown and a queen nonetheless!" she swatted at him, a little annoyed by his teasing, but still liking and craving his attention. "My sweet little dragon," he pulled her up to straddle him and laughed at her pout, she knew her pout made her look younger, but she couldn't help it. He silenced her thoughts with a loving kiss.

As soon as the gates opened for her, she was swarmed by advisors and tasks, people wanting her to approve messages to Dorne and the Reach. The Coronation ceremony would be the first thing to be planned once she arrived in the capital, solidifying the first Targaryen queen of the seven kingdoms.

She had nearly made it through the courtyard when a brown haired girl stepped in her way. "You must be pleased, you've solidified your rule," the girl said, "he vouched for you, helped you pull the northern lords to your side! Without him, there wouldn't even be a kingdom for you to rule and you cast him aside like he's nothing," the girl's fist was coiled around the hilt of her sword, the anger in her eyes was like a wildfire, threatening to unleash if she didn't calm her down. "Arya, I never wanted this to happen, I had hoped Jon would see why I made the decision I made. I had no idea he would run away," Arya snorted and turned away, "I don't begrudge Jon for running, he chose for himself for once, instead of trying to appease everyone else. And seeing as you can't even say that you would marry him to some wench, don't speak as if you wanted to." 

"He might even come home once you leave, though I expect him to be smarter than that." Arya Stark loved her brother, that much was true, and the threat of having a faceless assassin against her was not a pleasant thought. 

She entered her room and sat at her desk. She had requested reports from the search parties that had come back, but not much was found. The raven from White Harbor asked for more details on why Jon had run away, and along with Tyrion, they agreed that calling it a disagreement sounded best.

Three knocks at her door tore her away from the reports, "Come in," she called, and Tyrion along with Sansa entered, "your grace, the last search party just arrived back," her hand's words perked her up, "and? Is my nephew with them?" Sansa let out a laugh, "no, he is not. They did, however, find tracks leading into the forest leading to a river, but nothing more."

"And why is that important? That could be anyone, what makes them certain it was Jon's?" she asked, "they circled back around afterward and found black hair in the snow and more down the river," he answered. "So he cut off his hair, at least this confirms he plans to take a ship somewhere. And the guards there know his face well after our first arrival there, he may have been cau-," her words were interrupted by the roar and commotion of the dragons, one after the other. She hurried out the door before the other two could object.

The dragons were squaring off against each other, circling each other but not appearing threatening. Daenerys caught some of their communication through the mind link with her Drogon, "we can't separate," he said, "Let him be, he left," and then, "fine, but I can't refuse mother for long now." She took a horse and rode towards them and saw Rhaegal lifting off the ground flying south.

"Why the hell did the dragons have to be so far from the castle," she thought as she put the horse through its paces. She was sure that Rhaegal was on his way to Jon, wherever he was. She tried to keep her eyes on the flying dragon but he climbed above the clouds and out of sight, no worries, drogon could catch up to his brother easily enough.

Drogon was impatient, stomping his feet and looking at Dany racing towards him. She looked back at Jorah and Tyrion following so she slowed down. "your grace, please tell me you're not going after him?" Jorah asked, "I'm going to bring back the last hope for my house, Ser Jorah," he looked away from her, "and if he doesn't want to come back? Which is highly likely by the way," her hand asked, "I will bring him back," she answered as she swung off her horse and walked towards the remaining dragon. "My queen, let him be, he chose to abandon you and betray you," Jorah couldn't hide the hope in his voice, and she could only sigh, "I will bring him back, no matter what," and she climbed onto Drogon and took off.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pacing around the hill for what felt like hours, he was sure he had worn away the grass by now. The activity at the gates into White Harbor had gone down, but the guards probably wouldn't leave so he was forced to wait for Rhaegal. He could only hope that he had gotten enough of a headstart on his brother to help him go south. 

He had gotten something to eat at least, but there wasn't anything to do but wait, Ghost had interpreted his wishes and had already bolted south. He scoured the sky looking for his newfound dragon, and noticed a dark spot coming closer, also noting it would soon be dark and much colder. 

He picked up his supplies and Rhaegal landed next to him, throwing his head as if telling him to hurry up, he didn't need to be told twice, and after one of his quickest climb up, they left the ground. The flew for maybe a minute when they heard a deafening roar and Drogon came out of the clouds a few miles behind them.

They flew for hours, and if he could guess, they were somewhere near the fingers. The night came and went, and even though both riders were persistent in their quests, Jon knew that Drogon was the faster dragon and would eventually catch them. He had no intention of convincing Daenerys to let him go, so he spurred the dragon forward and started looking for a place to maybe slip off the dragon unseen.

He brought the dragon low and looked around, seeing no clearing to land. Drogon was inching closer, and a shiver went down his spine as he could make out a silver speck on his back. He had yet to see a furious Daenerys; he had always been there to soothe and calm her down. When Bran had revealed his true parentage, she was a mixture of elated and curious. She had spent a long time watching him and touching his face, "I'm just thinking of my brother," she had said, "you're my only connection to him," she sniffed and cried, happy tears she assured him,

When she had decided to trade him away he couldn't say, but since then his feelings for her was an angry love; he wanted to stay by her side and protect her, but at the same time he could hardly look at her without thinking of her lies and betrayals. 

She was undoubtedly trying to burn him with her eyes right now; it was nearly uncomfortable to imagine. He looked down ahead and spotted a quite large clearing, so he decided it was time. He made sure his equipment was fastened before he ordered his dragons decent. The dragon was just a few feet off the ground so Jon could quickly jump down and roll as he landed.

He ran to the treeline and immediately changed direction to run further in. Rhaegal had climbed and turned towards his brother, blocking his path and allowing Jon to get a headstart. Jon knew that even Rhaegal would only hinder his mother for so long, and the loud thud moments after confirmed it. He hid behind a tree when he heard her screaming his name, and the sound nearly broke his heart. The subsequent heat that nearly enveloped him brought him back to his senses, as he sensed Drogon's rage coming from Daenerys and had burnt the treeline around him to a crisp.

She kept yelling for him to come back, and he knew he had to move. He ran as fast as he could and tried to get some bearing on his surroundings, but not having been in the vale before made it obviously impossible. 

The forest was dense, so he was confident that Dany would be on her dragon rather than on foot chasing him. He heard the dragon circling above a few times, Rhaegal blocking him when he came too close. He hoped this wouldn't cause the dragons to fight, but it only looked like mild annoyance on Drogon's part.

As Rhaegal forced the bigger dragon out over the river, he took his chance to dart left and out of the forest, and the sound of the dragons became more and more distant.

The journey so far had not gone to plan. JON knew that calling Rhaegal would cause Dany to follow when he would have preferred to take a ship to the capital and make his way from there. Now he was in the middle of nowhere, only sure that he was in the Vale, which was a vast kingdom with few populated areas.

Riding and the flying for hours had made the slow walking unbearable. The urge to call Rhaegal was there but not with Drogon on their heels, so he told him to go to King's Landing, hoping Dany would follow him. Along the road, he came across a farm. A huge estate which held sheep, cows, and horses. If he could find someone he could maybe negotiate a price for a horse.

He found a stablehand who led him to the man he was looking for, "Hello, you wouldn't happen to have any horses for sale? I can pay," Jon asked the older portly man who looked somewhat frightened, "Is there anything wrong?" the old man looked at him suddenly. "Didn't you see the dragons?" he asked, "oh, yes, terrifying beasts, doesn't make me want to stay if you know what I mean," Jon tried not to push, but was somewhat urgent.

"Yes, I mean, I can sell you a horse for 20 copper pennies." he answered while searching the sky, "Heres a silver stag, its the smallest I have." The man looked at him wide-eyed but didn't ask any question, and accepted it with a nod and led Jon to the horses.

"He's beautiful," Jon said while stroking the mane of the brown horse, "he's a handful to handle, but let him get to know, and he'll be like a kitten," the man said. "Don't worry; I've dealt with more stubborn mounts than this," a smile on his face remembering his first real meeting with Rhaegal.

The day after their reconciliation, Daenerys had dragged him out to the dragons, so excited and rambling about the benefits of having two riders instead of her controlling two at a time. The bonding had taken time, with Rhaegal shrugging him off on the first few attempts, making Daenerys laugh.

He fastened his supplies and gear to the horse, noticing that the leather bindings on longclaws hilt were becoming loose, "damn,"  
he thought as he made an improvised tightening on it, another thing he would have to fix.

A map he borrowed told him he was right outside Strongsong, home of house Belmore in the north of the Vale, a long way from the kingsroad, the fastest way south. He decided to head towards the inn at the crossroads, for now. A good a plan as any.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and attention on this :) Going to focus on Coming Home next.


	4. A dwarfs travel and a queens faith

Traveling was not Tyrion's favorite pastime. He had trouble riding a horse given his height, and even the four days journey from Winterfell to White Harbor was a trial. He had initially had the choice between riding with the Dothraki in a carriage or take a ship from White Harbor with the other and the raven he had received the night before had made up his mind for him, needing to get to the capital as fast as possible.

The last time Daenerys had taken three dragons after Jon Snow, now Jon Targaryen, she lost one, and even though the stakes were considerably lower this time, the reason for going was the same.

After Drogon disappeared in the clouds, the task at hand was organizing the vast convoy which would take the kingsroad south under the command of Ser Jorah Mormont, who predictably wasn't happy being separated from Daenerys for such a long time. The knight had been acting like a hapless fool in love since the betrothal between Dany and Jon was undone.

"My lord hand, looking for anything in particular?" the even voice of Varys broke Tyrion from his thoughts, "No, I'm just taking a break from riding, stretching my legs." Varys hummed in response. "Any news from your little birds?" he asked the man, "Not yet, any word from our queen?" he retorted, Tyrion fished out the piece of paper from his coat and handed it to Varys.

Tyrion  
Jon escaped my pursuit somewhere over the vale. I have sent word to the Eyrie to send out search parties. My two sons and I will continue to the capital, get here as soon as possible.

D

"The Vale? must have been a sight for the smallfolk," he said, "Did you send the letters she requested?" 

"Of course, why wouldn't I?" Tyrion asked, "seems like other things should be on our queen's mind then runaway princes," Varys said, "I agree, but It's imperative that he accepts his duty, marries some girl and produces heirs." Varys sighed, "Do you believe the queen to be infertile?" Tyrion looked up at him, "well, that's what she says," Varys hummed, "Well, then I hope our prince Aegon comes home soon." 

Even as they were crawling towards summer, they could still feel winter's grip, however feeble it might be these days. It would take some time for summer to reach its peak. The North's population had received regular shipments of food from the Reach and Dorne, another headache that they have to worry about as they most certainly would like something in return, exactly what they would want he couldn't begin to contemplate.

The north had been opposed to change for a long time, even though the possibilities for trade, settlements, and military expansion was glaringly evident to anyone with knowledge of the seven kingdoms. The state of the armies of the crown was a mystery; the unsullied would stay as sort of crown army, the provincial troops would go back to their homes, but what would happen to the Dothraki? Stay or go back to Essos?.

The losses during the war had been high; of the 114 000 men that fought the dead, only 50 000 had gone south to confront the Lannister army and golden company with 30 000 of these being Dothraki riders. The numerous injured was beginning to heal and lessened the strain on the maesters and healing supplies needed at Winterfell.

He hoped Daenerys was doing well in King's Landing. The letter hadn't offered a lot of details as to what happened, but if she lost him in the Vale, they must have been flying for hours and the lords of the vale would have smallfolk knocking down the doors questioning why two dragons were chasing one another.

These were the thoughts that rattled inside his head every night on his travel south. Succession. Food. Armies. Jon. Daenerys. The realm. Making plans, but discussing it with the queen via ravens would not be safe or effective, so it would have to wait until they reunited.

Kings Landing

Daenerys was slowly easing into life in the red keep. When she landed in the dragon pit after the chase, she had sat against her remaining dragon for several hours, letting Drogon's warmth soothe her tired mind. Jon's betrayal - she was unsure whether his actions warranted such a label, nearly tore her apart. She remembered her hand laying out the options for her, strongly suggesting she marry him off to further the family line, both of them not weighing the consequences of going back on their words to Jon, especially after everything they'd experienced the past year.

After a few hours with Drogon, Rhaegal also arrived, bowing his head to his mother in hopes she would understand. She didn't have the will to be angry with him and stroked his chin, "I can't be angry at you for helping him, I understand how strong your bond is," the dragon cooed in response and curled up next to his brother.

To say there was a lot to do was an understatement. In the week Daenerys had lived in the red keep, she had refurnished her chambers, organized the city watch with the help of grey worm and began to look for candidates for the kingsguard. One of the men she had kept from the last kingsguard, Ser Dravor Blackmont, had suggested giving the uniform for the city watch, a new look to signify a change in leadership, and make people forget the corrupt city watch of the previous regimes.

"Your grace, I have the designs from the blacksmith for you to approve," Ser Dravor said, "Thank you, Ser," she looked them over, they were fairly simple, black with the red three-headed dragon on the chest and the shoulder pads. "These are lovely, have them start crafting, and we'll see that they are distributed once they are finished," she said, Ser Dravor bowed and left for the blacksmiths.

She had also taken to redecorating, personally tearing down any lion banners that had been left up for some reason and replacing them with the three-headed dragon she knew and loved, a pang of grief welled up as the thought of her prophetic dream years ago came back 'the dragon must have three heads!' it had said. It should only be one dragon on the sigil now she supposed.

She tossed and turned in her bed at night; she had gotten way too used to having a warm body to curl up against, and despite the downright hungry looks she got from some of the men that occupied the red keep she only felt annoyance. Even if she wanted to take a paramour, the rules were different for women who weren't so open with their sexuality as men could be. Sha had a very awkward conversation about this with Tyrion before she left Mereen, which caused her to leave Daario behind. Gods, Daario had been a cakewalk compared to how the situation was now; pining was not in her nature, despite her limited experience with 'love' she wasn't the type to chase after men, the previous day's dragon ride notwithstanding.

Her bedchambers were the same that she and Jon had shared that one night after they'd shown themselves to the city. They were both riled up, and they hadn't found a use for the bed until the early morning as he had her against nearly every surface in the room, finishing with her on top out on the balcony. Her thoughts drifted to him as they often did. What was he doing? What was he thinking about? Was he sleeping outside in the cold? She hoped he missed her, even though he probably hated her for leading him on for so long. She tried sending all the warm thoughts his way and missed his strong hands holding her. She let out a long breath and filled her cups with water and drank heartily.

She nibbled on the fruits and meats that had been brought to her, and she didn't like the smell of certain foods anymore. And her stomach had been acting up lately and prayed that it was over soon. Frowning at everything seemed to be the preferred method of the day, everything that went wrong, the long list of duties, Jon's absence and her loneliness worst of all.

The coronation would happen once her advisors returned, as they had agreed with the high Septon before they left for Winterfell. The same man who now waited for her in her office. "High Septon, my apologies for the long wait, there was urgent matters that needed my attention," she apologized to the man in the chair in front of her and proud of herself for the excuse, her stomach was uneasy, and she had to postpone the meeting. "No need, your grace, they say the early days of the reign is the hardest," he curtly answered.

"I can agree with that statement, for every problem solved there seems to be two more behind the next corner," she said, "so, what did you wish to discuss?" the man looked behind him as if he were waiting for someone. "Will the king not be joining us?" his words making her stomach fill with fear, "the king? The seven kingdoms have a queen now, high Septon," she briskly answered.

"yes of course, but you were betrothed last we spoke, were you not?" he asked, "I do not need him to rule if that's what you're implying," her irritation now taking the place of the fear. "your grace, are you not aware of the changes made by the faith? I asked your hand to look into it last I spoke," her questioning look made him continue, "nearly every king over the last 300 years has ruled on their own. After careful discussion, and the pleas by our faithful, we decided that there would be two rulers, a king, and a queen, recognized by the faith and making decisions together. It's not a dismissal of your abilities, mainly a precaution," he ended with a cautious smile. 

She cursed her hand for not taking this up with her, apparently other matters had been prioritized. "I admit I was not aware of this," disappointment weighed her down, "so I will have to marry," the high Septon nodded, "send a raven for the king in the north, and the faith will happily recognize you."

"the king-" her voice trailed off, "I'm afraid he's not available at the moment," the high Septon furrowed his brows, "any idea when he will be back? I was hoping for a wedding date when I walked in here," he stated, "The king is traveling the realms as I fix things here in the capital so that he will be back in about five moons time. Is that a good enough date for you?" she answered, "I suppose, your grace, even though we in the faith would feel much safer with the royals sitting on the thrones as soon as possible."

She had to figure out a way to buy time. She had to get the faith off her back, while still allowing Jon to either come back on his own or be found, the thought of Jon led to Winterfell and the godswood. "This may not be entirely valid in your eyes, but we got married in the godswood in Winterfell a week ago, I hope this eases your burden." He looked like he was processing it, "I'll take it to my council, it may be enough to assuage them for now." She nodded and removed herself from the conversation before he asked her more questions she didn't have the answer to, "very well, thank you high septon, I look forward to working with you and the council in the future," she said, he mirrored her sentiment and exited the room.

The days rolled by, and work was tedious, answering messages from houses pledging loyalty, food or supplies which seemed endless. One day Ser Dravor knocked on her door, "your grace, the ship from White harbor has arrived," she thanked him and rushed down to the docks.


	5. Scheming and Life on the Road.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion and Daenerys discuss. Jon is angry without any outlet.

Tyrion Lannister sauntered off the ship he'd been traveling on for a moons time. The serious look on her face showed immediately as he stepped off the ship, "Is there something wrong? News of Jon?" he asked, "not here, my lord hand, come to my office," the queen answered. She gestured towards Drogon, and the surprise on his face was apparent compared to the mix of anger and tension on her face. They climbed up on the black and red dragon which to his amazement didn't so much as flinch by his added presence on his back. Daenerys gripped the horns in front of her and the ground quickly disappeared.

The red keep loomed large in the distant. It towered over the rest of the city with its numerous towers circling the main square building in the middle. Rhaegal lay curled up on the biggest tower, the sunlight gleaming off his green scales as it lounged lazily. A raven had arrived the day before from the inn at the crossroads from Jorah, stating that the Dothraki and golden company army would be arriving the capital in 2 weeks time. No word on Jon though, and knowing his queen, he was certain that she would not relent on bringing him back for a long time.

If they couldn't bring him back, they would have to look for other options, not that Westeros had an abundance of men deemed appropriate for the queen of the seven kingdoms. The Martell's are all but gone, same for the Tyrell's and the Baratheon's despite the legitimization of Robert's bastard Gendry; he had taken Storm's End and would marry Arya when they eventually made their way there.

Raising a lesser house was an option, but that required further investigating. The guards patrolling and training in the courtyard scrambled to get out of the way of Drogon's landing, Daenerys wasting no time sliding down and walking inside. Not even looking back probably expecting him to follow her. She could move when she wanted to, making him nearly jogging so she wouldn't leave him in her dust.

The new armor of the Targaryen's had been made and distributed; they looked quite intimidating in their black armor, with the red cloth belt around their waists. The helmets were of the same color, a variation of the unsullied with what looked like dragon spikes on the top of the head. 

The armament of the guards inside the keep was fairly simple. Jon had cast one look at the wide hallways of the red keep and promptly detailed what was required; the commanders of the city watch had implemented it well. The narrow hallways of the keep didn't allow for maneuverability, so they were armed with swords. The guards at the gates had spears and shields to form a second wall if would-be attackers crossed the gates. Archers on the walls provided added support from above.

How the Dothraki, unsullied and Golden company would be utilized remained to be seen. The leader of the company, Harry Strickland had been the one to bend the knee to the Targaryens and was due in court in a few days to discuss it.

The queens solar was well lit. The room lay next to her wardrobe which connected to her chambers. The archway doors led out on the balcony that stretched around to her chambers as well. She sat behind her desk watching him as he took one of the seats in front of it. "The high septon came to see me," she said, Tyrion tried to deduce what he might have said to her. "He spoke to me of the changes the faith had made in order to support a new regime, and preventing the faults of previous ones." damn, the high septon had cornered Tyrion right before they left for Winterfell, the entire conversation with him had escaped him as he settled in his carriage for the journey north. "I suppose he also spoke of your betrothal to Jon?" he asked, "yes, he did. He also said that the faith had blessed and recognized Jon and me as the next king and queen, that we would be ruling together," she looked down at her hands, "I told him that Jon was traveling the realm, surveying or whatever and that he would be back in five moons time."

"That gives us time at least; they wanted Jon specifically?" Tyrion wondered why the faith was so insistent on the king in the north. "Yes, I suppose the people took to him well during his time here." Her gaze was still fidgeting like she hadn't told him the full story, "did anything else come up during the meeting?" he asked, "I bought us some more time in case it takes longer than what I initially told him." she sighed, "I told him that Jon and I had married in Winterfell under the old gods." 

The air became heavy, and suddenly the calm and collected demeanor he rode in with was washed away, "I don't have to tell you how difficult this makes matters. This makes nearly everything you suffered through with your decision regarding Jon just was for nothing?" he rambled and reached for the jug of wine, "I realize this changes things, and that finding Jon became ever more paramount. I believe most of the inns, taverns, and settlements along the king's road have received a description of his likeness."

"And if he returns, what then? and that's a big if, your grace," he asked, Daenerys pushed her chair and leaned against the door to the balcony. "Then," she trailed off, "then he'll rule beside me as intended. We will find him a paramour we can trust, and she'll bring an heir." The situation had gone from bad to worse in a mind-blowing way; the way Daenerys and Jon had fallen in love, Jon's parentage and the subsequent strife between them, Daenerys' decision marry him off without even discussing it with him.

And now they would have to find a way to bring him back, marry Daenerys and rule beside her, then father a bastard. A lingering silence settled, the dragons perched on the two nearest towers taking off probably towards the dragon pit, city noises and guards patrolling the hallways just beyond the door. The solution in Tyrion's mind formed, and the second he thought about it he knew she would never go for it, but he had a duty to the realm, and it seemed like the best solution. "We could say that he perished in an ambush," he suggested, the subsequent glare he received was enough to make her thoughts on it clear.

"Say that he's dead? And what happens after that?" she asked, "We would have to relay the information to the realm, and what? Hope he doesn't hear it? The North would be furious, especially since his family knows the truth, or they might think we killed him! The north is stronger than ever, and if they think we have done anything to Jon, Sansa and Arya will not hesitate in getting revenge. The war will tear this country apart, and I will not let that happen. Jon will come back one way or another, and I will convince him to rule and do what's necessary, mark my words."

Best to leave the subject for now. Without any news, they would be discussing in circles anyway, "Fine, your grace, but there are other matters to concern ourselves with. About the golden company and the Dothraki; will they stay in Westeros or will they return to Essos?" happy to have a quick change of subject, her face softened. "I was thinking, the two combined forces number around 55 000, the golden company providing 10 000. I want the company and 40 000 Dothraki to stay; the rest will travel to dragons bay and strengthen my rule there," she finished.

"Very well your grace, I agree that the golden company should stay, they are loyal to the dragon queen, and won't revolt once they're given land and allowed to stay."

The knock on the door broke their conversation, "enter," Daenerys said, and the maester came in with a stack of letters in his hands. "Five ravens came today, your grace," she took the letters from his outstretched hand, "thank you, maester" the old man had arrived from the Citadel yesterday. He bowed and exited the room.

She looked through each of the letters, frown increasing each time until she opened a drawer and placed them inside, "troubling news your grace?" he asked, "no, nothing that can't be discussed another time. Now if you don't mind I'm a bit tired, have the guards send for Missandei to come to my room please." she exited through the balcony doors, leaning on the railing like a crutch. Her head bowed was the last thing he saw as he pushed the door shut behind him.

"Have someone send for Missandei; the queen requests her presence." The guard sped down the hall in search of the queen's longtime friend.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Travelling along the king's road was a dreary endeavor. Along the way were several run-down villages, plagued by the near decade of war. Even so, there were a lot of helpful people in the places he had to stop, helping him finding lodging or something to eat. One of the maids at the Ivy inn had taken one look at the uneven haircut and promptly offered to even it out for him, "Looks like you cut it with a sword!" she exclaimed, he laughed at her comment not being far from the truth.

His luck had been incredible so far, dodging soldiers both in the north and the vale, some encounters had been dangerously close, and caves, thick bushes, and the soldier's impatience had saved him from tense situations. 

He hadn't seen any of the returning armies, as he knew they would be taking the kingsroad and his fear of them running him down or running into the back of them made him stay at some inns longer, in hopes they would pass him or get farther in front of him. 

Lately, his thought had drifted to where the hell he was headed. Did he dare venture to the capital or any of the cities around it? Life could be easier there, but a lot bigger chance of discovery. His sister would become the lady of Storm's End alongside Gendry, and fairly certain he could stay there for a while, he kept it as a plan B just in case. 

He kept his ears open to rumors, and aside from some saying that Daenerys could breathe fire, mated with her dragons and could enthrall men with just a look of her lilac eyes, the last one may be true, he thought, there wasn't much talk that held any truth.

She would probably marry soon, to whom he had not the faintest idea of, seeing as the past decade of war had killed many heirs and lords. He supposed Tyrion would suggest his brother, though placing a Lannister even next to the throne was hardly something the realm would tolerate: Dorne hated them, the north tolerated their presence but would rather fight the night king than be ruled by them again. The reach, stormlands, and Riverlands also had a less than favorable view of the lions of Casterly Rock. Sighing and shaking his head at himself for thinking of her marriage prospects.

Thoughts of Daenerys were both welcome and unwelcome, as most of their pleasant memories were rather steamy and not fit for reminiscing in public, but many were also of long conversations of their childhoods, the tragedies they've faced, loved ones lost. But whatever thoughts revolved around her, they always ended the same place, the first night in a week he had finally felt calm after the reveal, he had gone too her in hopes of reconciling. "Don't ever hurt me like that again, we're in this together until our last days," she had said; at the time it gave him hope, but now they were laced with lies, false promises, and deceit.

She had fortunately continued to King's Landing, not likely she was out looking for him personally. She was probably looking for a horrible woman willing to wait for him to be dragged before the tiny silver blonde on her precious iron throne. Anger accompanied those thoughts again, and he hated it, the best course of action would be to let go of it, find a place to stay and live out his life in relative calm free from all the scheming, spiders or stroppy queens. It would take some effort forgetting Daenerys Targaryen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the helmet design I found for the Targaryen army, I thought it was to cool to not use.
> 
> http://www.darkknightarmoury.com/p-5480-assassins-leather-helmet.aspx


	6. On the dragons doorstep.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon finds a name and a castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got around to updating this :) I hope this story will be as cool as the one I'm picturing in my head ^^,
> 
> I'm wondering about the length, are the chapters too short? I always aim for at least 2k words pr chapter. I know from experience that reading exceedingly long chapters can get a little tedious (depending on the quality of writing ofc) and I don't want to force content just for a word count.
> 
> I added some character interactions as it felt a little flat :)
> 
> Let me know what you think :)

Traveling with an army is sometimes enjoyable, lots of people to distract you from the mundanity of inching forwards towards your target. Traveling alone is close to the most dreary thing you can imagine, not speaking for hours and wandering inside your mind can drive you mad. Jon Snow had to be left behind from now on, drawing closer to the capital makes the likelihood of someone recognizing his name increasing exponentially.

A lot of possibilities rattled inside his mind, short and simple or long and extravagant? The former preferably. He could take his father's name, Eddard or Ned, but he didn't need questions about the north or his family. He could take the name of one of his brothers from the night's watch, maybe Pyp? Grenn? Or Jeor? But he didn't need the constant reminder of those days, despite the fond memories of the few men he made friends with those days.

In the end, he settled for Ashtor Tallhart; he could claim to be a distant cousin of the small house in the north, and hope he wouldn't be questioned about it until he could figure out his story. The days were very long, it seemed, at least to someone who was used to living on the wall where it was just as dark during the day as in the morning, but it allowed him to cover more ground fortunately and his destination was fast approaching.

The more he studied the map the clearer it was, Hayford castle was the obvious choice; a half days ride from King's Landing, it was close enough that he could go there for supplies and news if needed and he was certain none of the inhabitants could identify him. It was also close enough that Rhaegal wouldn't become too angry at his absence, and such a short distance wouldn't raise suspicion if he were to fly the short distance and back again.

It painted a beautiful picture, the big castle perched on a green hilltop with a river running next to it. Men were streaming in and out of the castle gates with axes and farming tools, or the other way with wagons of firewood or food. Two guards armed with swords and shields, eyed him suspiciously as he approached on his horse. 

"Halt! State your business," the guard asked, "I was hoping to stay at the castle, my home up north was destroyed in the war against the dead, so I thought I would try my luck in the south," Jon answered. "What's your name?" the guard asked, "Ashtor Tallhart." They whispered between on another before answering, "very well, talk to the master-at-arms inside; he will show you to lord Hayford." Jon bowed his head and rode through the gates.

The dour grey of the castle was contrasted by the array of colors and greens along the window sills; roses, lilies and other flowers he couldn't identify. People looked at him as he rode by, clearly wondering who he was and why he'd come to this small castle when the capital was less then a days ride away. He dismounted and paid for the horse's place in the stable.

"Can you show me to the master-at-arms?" he asked a man shuffling hay. "Yes, he's the bald man just around the corner," the man answered and continued his work, "Thank you". Jon looked around once out of the stables and spotted the man by the forge, a tall, skinny man with no hair, just as the man had described. "My lord," he said once in earshot, "I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time," the man looked him over before answering, "yes, what is it?" he rushed out, "short story, my name is Ashtor Tallhart, and I'm looking for work. I am good with a sword and able-bodied, and I have experience with fighting the mountain tribes and bandits up north."

"I'll be the judge of how capable you are. You two," he called to two of the men in the yard, "let's see what he's got. Everyone is raving about the northerners sword skill these days, let's see if there's any weight to it." Jon smiled at his words and took the training sword offered by the master-at-arms.

He made sure not to show his utter dominance too much, thinking that anything he did to not draw any more attention to himself was necessary for his cover. The men were capable and showed potential to be great one day. In between bouts he started talking to the men, "have you been to the capital?" a man who called himself Ivarn asked him, "not yet, though I hope to go someday soon." Ivarn nodded, "I saw the new queen arrive some weeks ago, on her great black beast. A menacing thing, makes you understand why so many bent the knee to Aegon the Conqueror." Jon had listened to Daenerys' tales of her ancestor many times; how many men he had, what his and his sister's dragons looked like and some details she had read about at Dragonstone.

"Did you hear about the new king?" Ivarn asked, and Jon's heart leaped in his chest, "new king?" he asked. "Yes, an amazing story. An unknowing Targaryen prince hid as a bastard, away from the clutches of the late Robert Baratheon. Almost seems too good to be true," Ivarn eagerly explained, "wow, how did he find out?" Jon asked, curious as to what news had reached this far south. "There's magic involved apparently, visions and fantastical things. The incest is a bit wincing though; I must admit," Ivarn said, "hm, well the Targaryens are known for it, but I don't think I could judge them, it doesn't concern me at least," he answered, Ivarn shrugged in uncertainty.

Luckily his testing hadn't lasted long, and after another hour the master-at-arms called it off, "Tallhart, come here," he called out. "You have skills; I'll give you that. I'll go up and speak to the lord, and then I'll have an answer for you. Introduce yourself to the men, nearly all the others here are part of our army." Jon nodded and thanked him, before turning around as the man disappeared into the castle.

Some of the men were looking at him. Clearly, a new face was uncommon here. He heard barking and noticed a few dogs kept in pens in the far corner of the yard. His thoughts went to Ghost, and where he might have gone. He knew he would seek him out eventually, having separated when Rhaegal picked Jon up outside White Harbor.

Ghost would be fine. Maybe he'd gone back to Winterfell to protect his family; he hoped that was the case if he wasn't coming south with him. A free spirit indeed, not a pet as many liked to call him, Jon snorted at the thought. Sansa would have fully committed to her role as wardeness now, a role she, in reality, had since they took their home from the Boltons, keeping their people fed and their armies warm.

Arya was on her way to Storm's End now with Gendry, another huge decision for her, going from faceless assassin to marrying the last Baratheon and becoming Lady Baratheon, in name only he suspected.

That was his plan if his real identity was discovered, he would ride to storm's end, and hopefully, Arya and Gendry would take him in for as long as he needed.

"Tallhart," The master-at-arms called out, "come with me, the Lord wants to meet you." Jon frowned, lords usually didn't meet random visitors personally. He walked behind the man up through the castle to the lords solar. "I never got your name," Jon said, "Randar Wyne, Master-at-arms here at Hayford Castle."

"Have you stayed here long, my lord?" Jon asked, "no, the castle was abandoned after the war of the five kings, and stood empty until queen Cersei gifted it to Lord Hayford," Randar answered.

"And the new regime hasn't bothered you?" 

"Other than their armies marching past, not really. I suppose someone representing them will arrive shortly," Jon would have to stay out of sight for that, he thought.

"And Lord Hayford, is he's a trustworthy and capable lord?" Jon asked.

"Yes, he's made several improvements to the castle, both to our defenses and the lands surrounding it," Randar answered.

The walls of the castle were covered in tapestries and paintings depicting several events; some had dragons flying above the red keep, some of the landscapes, and the paintings were of figure Jon couldn't recognize, though the artwork was of high quality.

"I see you've noticed our artwork," Randar said and chuckled. "It is the work of the lady Hayford. Her love of painting will someday cover every wall in the castle!" he laughed. "She's very talented, from what my untrained eye can deduce at least," Jon answered.

They entered a long hallway, and Randar stopped at the last door and knocked. The door opened and revealed a grey-haired, stern looking man sitting at a desk, "come in, Randar," Lord Hayford said, then turned his gaze at Jon, "and you must be Ashtor, correct?" Jon nodded, "my name is Corbus Hayford, lord of this castle. Randar tells me you want to join our force here?".

Jon stepped forward, "yes, the north was ravaged by the war against the dead, and they had to burn the castle I lived in with the dead inside. Didn't see much reason to stay in the north, so I traveled south, hoping to make a name for myself."

Corbus stared at him, "I didn't believe the stories about the dead, I thought it was a pile of horse shit," Jon nodded, "but nearly every man coming from the north has backed up the tales." I have the sword that killed the night king strapped to my horse if you're curious, Jon thought to himself.

"Did you fight against the dead?" Corbus asked, "yes, they attacked in the middle of the night. The dragon queen flew in on her dragon and burned most of them to ashes. Cut one in half when we fled towards Winterfell, but it kept moving," Jon answered.

"Well, you're in luck. We're in need of capable soldiers, as we have been getting reports of both mountain clans and rebel Lannister soldiers raiding the countryside. Randar here will get you situated," Corbus said, Jon liked the man's direct way of speaking. He didn't beat around the bush and had little time for small talk, "thank you, my lord, I'll do my part and then some." Lord Hayford nodded and looked down at the parchment he was writing on.

Randar led him out of the room and down to the stables to retrieve his things, then on to the barracks, a large building just beyond the entrance to the castle. Walking through the common room, a large room with two long tables, benches and chairs up against it, "this is the barracks common room, this is where you'll eat with the rest of the men, so you'd best make friends soon." Jon was reminded of his first days at the night's watch; surely this would be a much more relaxed group of people to make friends with.

Before Jon could ask any questions, Randar continued, "Get yourself settled, and we'll go over your duties on the morrow. Your room is the second one on the right, down that corridor." 

"Thank you, my lord; I honestly hadn't expected to be accepted so quickly," Jon said, "don't mention it, kid, also, the realms have been at war for a decade, so capable young soldiers are hard to find. So we don't have a choice" he smirked and left.

After putting his things in his new room, he braved the common room and taking a cue from his early days at castle black; he was determined to find friends and people he could trust quickly. The cook was serving rabbit stew for supper, and once he sat at the table, he felt the hunger settle in his stomach. Thinking back on the conversation with Lord Hayford, he thought about the Lannister deserters he'd mentioned. Tyrion had speculated that some of them wouldn't bend the knee to Daenerys. Apparently, he was right.

Jon would gladly fight the Lannister army some more, despite his confused feelings towards Dany. He quickly shed his thoughts of her; it would do him no good to pine after the woman who betrayed him, seemingly as straightforward as dropping a cloak.

The doors to the barracks swung open, slamming loudly at the wall, "for fuck sake, can you learn to open a door properly?" a female voice called out angrily. Jon turned his head towards it and saw a beautiful woman, about his height with a sword at her hip and spear in her hands. "I apologize, you know I don't know my strength," a big man wielding a huge ax answered.  
When they noticed Jon they made a beeline towards him, "you must be the new guy," the woman stated. "Yes, name's Ashtor, pleasure," Jon answered, and they both sat down on the bench opposite him.

"My name's Alissa, the big fella next to me is Colbat. Where are you stationed?" the woman, Alissa asked, "I haven't been assigned a post yet. I only arrived at noon," Jon answered, the woman nodded, "well, do as you're told, and you'll do just fine. Randar is a reasonable man as long as everything goes smoothly, and who knows, maybe you'll get to join us when we take on the Lannisters up at Stokeworth," the big man, Colbat said.

"Stokeworth?" Jon asked. They'd tried to track the remnants of the Lannisters that fled the battle for King's Landing, but the group of about 500 men had disappeared. "yes, a rider came a few days ago asking us to prepare, we march in five days. "Well, the north remembers, I'd be glad to take them out." Alissa smiled, "are you any good with a sword then?" she asked, "I'd say so, enough to handle myself at least." Colbat laughed, "where are you from?" Colbat asked, "a small castle up north, my father is a distant cousin of the Tallharts, and served as the captain of the guard until his death a year ago," Jon answered, proud of coming up with it on the fly. "Tallhart, a strong name," Alissa added, "are you planning on staying long?" she asked,

"For the time being, yes, I've been traveling much lately, so I'm settling down for now." Colbat nodded, "same here, we newcomers should stick together," he said and clanked his mug of ale to Jon's. "Are you any good with a sword? I don't ride with people who can't defend themselves," she bluntly stated, "yes, I believe I can hold my own well enough," Jon answered. "We'll find out soon enough, I reckon. Now its time for sleep, big day tomorrow for us all," Colbat said and emptied his mug. "Sleep well," he said and walked towards the sleeping quarters.

"see you around, Ashtor," Alissa winked at him, and entered a room opposite his. 

Jon finished his meal and went to his room, the bed looked warm and inviting, and he fell onto the bed. A day of riding had taken its toll, and sleep rolled over him quickly, though it wasn't a dreamless sleep.


End file.
